


A son and his mother

by fuskar



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Child Abuse, Heavy Angst, im sorry, only angst, this is walburga with sirius what did you expect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 03:55:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16297667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuskar/pseuds/fuskar
Summary: It is a normal evening at the Black household, which generally never bodes well for the first born.





	A son and his mother

A furious scream could be heard all through a dark house on an equally dark street in a very high-strung part of the city. Other than that the entire house was ominously quiet. It was as if even the walls were on their toes to see what would happen there next. All through the house was the same theme of green, silver and black coating the walls and floor, and not a speck of dust could be seen with the eye of any creature known to man. Even as it was, you might even say clinically, clean throughout the entire house one could sense that it had never been treated with love, but with the immense need to keep a pretty face outward. With the need to show all that visited how well they had it, though that statement was all but true. 

On this particular evening in this, almost  _ magically _ , orderly house the eldest of the family’s sons only a moment ago entered in his typical way of arriving. That way being whatever way would most agitate his mother. This evening it consisted of his hair braided in an impressive fashion, motorcycle helmet in his left hand and a completely mundane camera in his right. What the mother of the house seemed to be the most furious about was what he carried in his right hand. 

It was no secret that the mother had been very pretty while young; there were still features to indicate that. Though now it seemed as if years of keeping high maintenance had washed away most of that beauty and instead replaced it with a hard sort of demeanor. Almost fuming with anger she spoke threatening words towards her son through clenched teeth.

The son only nonchalantly shrugged as response to his mother and carelessly kicked his shoes of his feet. That was an action that only seemed to make the mother even more enraged but the son’s manner and the smug smirk that threatened to take over his face suggested that the reaction was what he had wished for. Abruptly moving the helmet down his arm to make his left hand free he held the camera up to his face. Sooner than the mother could acknowledge it the son had already taken a picture while also giving some colourful words. 

Without warning the hard-looking mother reached into her simple but still elegant dress to find something and if one would look closely at the son one would see how he predicted what was about to happen and that he was scared of it. With grace barley fitting for a woman so seemingly vile she drew the object from the bundle of fabric she had reached into and in one swift moment she had flicked it and uttered one simple word that got the son to his knees. 

The son dropped both objects in his hands as the red light produced from the item in his mother’s hand hit him. Screams more heartbreaking than you could imagine a son ever having to make at the hands of his mother tore through the boy, but the woman causing him the pain did not seem affected by it at all. Uncontrollable tears streamed down the son’s cheeks and more screams of pain escaped him as the torture continued. 

After what could have been one minute or several the red abruptly stopped hitting the boy and the woman stared at her firstborn with obvious disgust in her eyes. The mother left the hallway where the dispute had taken place, her son crying and his body, still on the floor, convulsing from the extensive pain he had been put through.


End file.
